Casino
by ReApErMaN1
Summary: The misadventure of a man aboard the casino resort station circling above Venus. When he’s mistaken for another man, he and his partner are drug into a deal risking their very lives. Check the note before reading, please.


Note: This story is probably borderline fan-fiction. I wrote it with quite a bit of influence from Cowboy Bebop, which has had a great impact on me. Though this is by far not the only influence I took, it is likely the most noticeable. I wrote this as more of an exercise to get a feel for this new writing style I'm using and the characters I'm creating. If anything, I suppose you could say it takes place in the Cowboy Bebop "universe," though I have no qualms about altering it to my whim. I think a possible mistake I made was taking one or two lines from Cowboy Bebop and using them in my story, which I did simply because I _really_ love those lines. Call it a homage, if you will.  I wanted to post this here to get the thoughts of people who knew the series fairly well. I never had any desire to "steal" anything away from this wonderful series, I only wanted to write a story people could enjoy. I ask only that readers keep this in mind as they read. I will take the story down if enough people find it objectionable. Thank you.

Casino

We were heading to La Entrada de Vega, one of the stations orbiting Venus. It was a big resort spot at the time, a place for people to stop and look out over "lovely" Venus. I know, it's is such a wonderful place now, but try being there at the turn of the twenty-second century; it was hardly the grass ball you see today. The corporations were just starting to terraform it, and there was still a lot of poisonous gas in the atmosphere. Hot as hell, too. 

I was running with Darren at the time, someone else I'm sure you've heard of. An all right guy. Granted, the 40 years he spent in a Phobos penitentiary left him a bit worse for wear. The scars he got on that moon combined with his long, oval shaped face gave him a startling semblance to a monkey. A monkey that wore clothes and carried around a pair of high-powered pistols, but a monkey nonetheless. Much like me, he was decked out in more than a few pre-Fall augmentations, and also like me, the catastrophe that left most of Earth a smoking crater also absolved him of the contractual obligations accompanying those little cybernetic gifts. True, the prison term he ended up serving put a damper on his liberation, but still.

We had just got back from Venus, were our cargo job had went bust. Three day trip from Mars to Venus, loaded down with machinery for their atmospheric converters, only for the foreman to claim the stuff defective over some packaging discrepancies. It didn't leave either of us, or our pilot Static for that matter, in the best of moods. We had to unload the stuff on a junk dealer for a fraction of what was agreed. 

And that brought us to La Entrada De Vega. The place had a lot of traffic back then, much more than it has now. This was mostly because people were so interested in seeing the system's "first fully terraformed planet" or some such. Well, that and the gambling. They _really_ liked the gambling. 

That's why we were there. We estimated our chances of getting back to Mars with anything resembling full stomachs were slim to nil, and I thought it might be worth a shot making up our losses on the casino floor. I managed to convince Darren, who had his own reasons for being confident, but Static had some moral objection to gambling. Or losing all his money. One or the other. So it was me and Darren to try our luck amidst the gambling halls.

Vega is much different then than it is now.  All those massive biospheres and hydroponic farms, the numerous control centers to help manage the ecosystems down on Venus, the communal towns with all the "return to nature" types living in harmony. They weren't there. In there place were hundreds of streaming LEDs and holographics. For every tree there was a blinking advertisement and for every bush a roulette wheel. Those dozens of hydroponic farms were casinos, all ran by different groups, usually oversaw from some luxury office built into the ceiling to overlook the casino floors. The seeimingly endless array of variety shows and strips clubs goes without saying.  Oh yeah, and lights. Lots and lots of blinking lights. It was a nice place, provided you weren't prone to seizures. 

The two of us left my boat, the Midnight Sun, and fought our way through the throng of tourists-turned-gamblers. A pretty diverse group, visitors to Vega: those from lower rungs of society who scraped together enough to take a chance at striking it big to the megacorp business execs out with their bodyguards to kill a weekend, sharp-suited, spiky haired youths coming to be cool and be seen around the blackjack tables to the grey haired elderly couples out to play the nickel slots. Amazing what you remember. 

After elbowing through the crowd we made it to the elevator. Much like the rest of the station, the lift was spacious and bedecked with more lights and scrolling ads. The crowd inside was thankfully sparse, and Darren and me were able to get a clear view out the high windows overlooking the dock.

"Now explain this system you've worked up to me," Darren said, scratching his stubbled chin.

"It's not a system," I said, "It's statistics. These casinos are full of people who simply pump money into them. Those people play the games with little to no chance of winning, while the more intelligent gamblers make a relatively steady profit off the more balanced games. The trick is to play the games with the highest turnout. If we play the right games, we just might make it out of this trip in the black."

"And you'll pick the right games. how?"

I sighed. "Simple. Most of it's common sense. Roulette and blackjack, for starters. We stay away from slots, bingo, and the like. Beyond that we just watch and wait for our chance."

He stared at me with that long frowning face of his. "You realize you just repeated everything we overheard from every other person walking by on our way in here?"

Let it never be said my plans lack spontaneity. "Does that make them any less true? Of course there's a chance of failure. That's why it's called 'gambling'. If it was a sure thing it would be called 'free money game'."

Darren smiled that sly smile that always put me on edge. "It's only a gamble if you don't know what you're doing. Me? I like 'free money game' better. You, on the other hand, might want to take a good look at the bills you brought with you. I'm not sure you're going to ever see them again."

I shrugged. "If I don't, it'll be due solely to your bad attitude."

The casinos of La Entrada de Vega were a grand sight, provided you could manage to walk in and walk out still holding your shirt. It's hard to appreciate the thirty foot fountains and suspended botanical gardens when you've just lost your life savings on a high roll. 

We spent a few minutes taking in the place, the cool mist from the artificial waterfall hitting our backs. It was here when I was struck with the sudden realization as to why Darren was so eager to join me on my gambling venture. 

"It might be a good idea for you to stay away from the card games," I said to him, "your eyes are too good."

"Balls to that!" was his emphatic reply, "Why the hell did you think I came here?"

It wasn't so much that Darren's eyesight was perfect. It was that they shot past perfect and came out the other side. It was one of the augmentations he had received back on pre-Fall Earth. I patiently explained to him the complications that would accompany him taking full advantage of his abilities here. It took some convincing, but I finally got through to him that counting cards was one thing, a thing that could quite possibly get us thrown out of the casino, but actually looking _through_ the cards to see what was on the other side was quite another. Something like that was not so likely to get us ejected out of the casino as it was to get us shot out the closest available air-lock.  

After a few minutes of relative silence following our heated debate, _relative_ being the emphasized word considering our being in a tightly packed casino, I notice Darren's eyes lock onto something.

"Yo John," he said eventually, "You ever have any kids?"

"Not in the recollectable past. Why?" 

"Because otherwise you've got a clone of yourself walking around." He motioned with a nod. I looked.

There are a number of strange occurrences one runs across over the course of a lifetime. There are coincidences, slim chances, faint feelings of deja vu. Then there's stuff like this. 

The guy could have been my double. He had the same face as me, the same build, only his haircut was different. His head was shaved bald. He was standing at the opposite end of the plaza, decked out in a suit and talking on a solar telephone. He had a coat on, and his other hand was firmly in his pocket. I couldn't help but wonder if he had seen me, and was telling his friend on the other side of that phone about the weird guy in the open shirt and khakis who looked just like him. 

I finally brought myself to stop staring at the guy, and turned to see Darren walking away into the crowd. I asked him where he was going.

"I'm not going to stand around and wait for the universe to implode when you actually meet face to face. I want to see if I can actually make a profit off this little venture now that I have to play handicapped." With that, he was gone.

I ultimately decided against talking to this doppelganger of mine. It wasn't so much because I was afraid of the destruction of the universe _per se_, but I've never been much of an inquiring person, and there are some things I'm firmly sure that a person is better off not knowing. In retrospect, that single decision probably caused all the events thereafter to occur. Kind of ironic, in a not really ironic at all sort of way.

After exchanging my money for chips I slipped into the crowd, mingling amongst the gamblers of various levels of profession and success. I tried my hand at craps with some degree of success. I had almost doubled my earnings when I made my biggest mistake that day. I moved on. 

It was a roulette wheel. A small, far off little roulette wheel off in the corner of a massive casino that could have been acres in size. Behind it was a massive window looking out into the void of space. At that table is where I saw her. 

Long, auburn-brown hair, trendy little pants on her trendy little body, she even had a cute little ankle bracelet on. And those eyes, those gray-blue eyes, they burned into a mind, _making_ you pay attention to her. That was Anna. Yeah, I walked over. 

I wish I could say I said something really suave and debonair as I sat down, charming her with my personality and wit. I wish I could, but I can't. 

"So what are you here for?" I remember saying.

"Here to pay off a debt. Just watching right now, though," she replied, looking at me intently "Waiting for the right time to bet."

"Oh? How do you tell when it's the right time?" I put some of my money on black. Always bet on colors, never on numbers. I heard that somewhere. 

I heard a soft clink. She must have been playing with that ankle bracelet of hers. The wheel spun. "You just have to know when the luck is right. Luck is very important in these games. Without luck, you're lost wherever you go."

The ball stopped on red 18. The dealer took my money, slipping my chips into the credit machine he kept near him. There was one at every table. Since the chips had monetary value on the station beyond gambling, the casino owners saw to it that spare chips weren't just lying around.

I could see Anna smiling as I put another bet down on red. "Luck of a coin toss, huh?" I said.

Another clink from her ankle bracelet. "Fifty-fifty. Best odds you can ask for."

Black 11. I cursed to myself and placed another bet, only to turn back to this woman and continue our conversation. This went on for a while. To be fair, it was a nice talk. A smile here, a laugh there; she could be very interesting when she wanted. The fact that after ten minutes I had yet to win a single roll, however, was starting to sap my ability to converse. She almost seemed to perpetuate the conversation, becoming more talkative as I watched my money dwindle away to nothing. After half and hour, the last of my chips were gone. At least, I _thought_ all of them were gone. As I lifted my arm I noticed one that had eluded me as the rest fled from my side. I had one chip left. One. Single. Chip.

I remember thinking the chip might buy me a drink at the casino bar, and hoping against hope it would be big enough to drown in. I stood up from the table, intent on finding out. That's when she put her hand on my arm. I looked in those eyes of hers.

 "Hey. How about something to remember me by?" The palm of her other hand was open, as if waiting for something. 

"No thanks," I said, "I think I'll remember this just fine. No matter how I try." There wasn't much else for me to say. I turned to leave, her hand pulled from my arm tensely. 

I squeezed back through the crowd, realizing now my only hope lay in a man whose methods could very possibly get us both killed. I really needed that drink. And the last thing I needed to see was that look alike of me coming of the other way. And the last thing I needed to _feel_ was a hand grabbing my shoulder from behind. 

I spun around to face Anna. Her eyes were unreadable, but that didn't matter, because every other inch of her read just fine, and they said quite plainly "pissed off". 

"What the hell are you doing?" she hissed. "This wasn't part of the plan!" 

I was a tad bit surprised. "What? Me lose all my money and get hounded by some woman because I didn't give her my last chip? I daresay it's not." Not so surprised as to not be a smartass, of course. 

"Are you _insane_? We both have our orders. You hand me the chip and we both walk away. I'm not taking the fall because you're getting ideas.!" It was then her eye caught the _other_ me. He saw her, then he saw me. I pretty much saw them both to begin with. It was pretty awkward.

"This isn't where we were told to meet," my double said flatly. Thankfully, his voice was nothing like mine. It seemed dead, almost monotone.

Anna's finger, which was still pointed fairly close to my face, turned to my look-alike. "You're." she stopped. She looked back at me. "Then you are.?"

"I am? I'm broke. I'm confused. I'm angry. And, well, I'm armed. Anyone care to enlighten me about this situation?" Well, they both looked pretty frustrated. I felt it only fair if I got to be too. 

"I was just doing what was arranged!" Anna returned. "I ensured you lost all your chips but one, and you'd hand it off to me. Though I guess it was supposed to be _you_." She said, looking back at my double. She paused, looking at both of us. "Are you two twins?"

"Not likely," I said automatically, not really meaning to. 

My doppelganger was slowly shaking his head. When he talked I could see his teeth clench. "You were kept alive to do one thing. _One thing_! And you still manage to compromise our entire situation!" 

"How was I supposed to know?" she said smartly "_Look_ at him! Be mad at him if you have to, he's the one who looks so much like you!"

He looked like he was getting ready to say something. It would probably have been really dark and menacing. As menacing as that monotone voice could be, anyway. I saw his hand going into his coat, and was already reaching myself. Not that it mattered. As I said, he _looked_ like he was going to say something. I'll never really know because the bullet ripping through his chest kind of beat us all to the punch, so to speak. He fell to the floor near Anna, crumpled on his side, chips spilling everywhere from his coat.

I wished I had the time to reflect on the distinct feelings that arose at the sight of basically seeing myself get shot down right in front of me, but as it was I was too busy snapping my head over to see Darren of all people a good sixty feet away, steely eyed and holding the smoking pistol in his hand. All sound ceased after that thunderous bang. The beeps of slot machines seemed to echo in the vacuum. Everyone had froze. 

For a second, anyway. With an eruption of screams everyone scrambled away. Still, through it all I heard the distinct sound of Anna cursing. I saw kneeling down next to the body out of the corner of my eye.

"Jesus, Darren! Where the hell did you come from?" I yelled at my partner as he ran over. 

"I was over at the roulette table when I noticed him start to reach for his piece. I was doing good, too. Shit! You're just lucky the crowd parted quick enough for a clean shot!"

From behind. Through a dense crowd. A good seventy to eighty feet away. I went over the perfect eyesight thing, right? Damnit I wish I had had his doctors. 

I caught one last sight of Anna as she disappeared into the swarming mass of people. I noticed a number of chips slipping through her fingers as she went.

"Maybe this would be a good time to go," I said, "I don't think your little preemptive shot is going to be the easiest things to explain away, however fortunate it was."

"Hold on," Darren said, walking over and kneeling down near my clone's body. He had a clear view of both it and Anna the whole time. He ran his hand slightly above the ground before picking up a single chip from the floor. 

"What's that?" I said, the chaos around me preventing my realizing how stupid a question it was.

He showed me the chip. "The guy had this chip in his hand. The rest were in his pockets. That chick seemed awfully offset when it wasn't there anymore."

I looked it over, then looked at the one in my hand. "I guess this one was supposed to be that one. Fair trade, I suppose." I flicked my last chip on the body of my double, a chip for a chip. I gave him one last look before we did our own disappearing act into the crowd. I never figured out why he looked so much like me. I think it just caused so much grief that I never wanted to know. 

"I think we should have just stuck to the card games," I said.  

I'll spare you the details of our flight from the casino. Lots of running. Lots of screaming. Kicking. Punching. You can imagine. I brought Darren up to speed on our situation as we went, and we made it back to our ship in one piece, so we'll leave it at that.

We rushed into the cockpit to find Static leaned back in his chair, dreamily watching the swirling colors of the screen saver swimming across the various monitors set into the walls and hung from the ceiling. I could see the dazed look in his eyes from the reflection on the screens; God only knows what went on in that old man's head when it wasn't busy interacting with things other than itself. 

I got his attention with a swift kick to his chair. He shot upright in a quick, seemingly automatic motion. He blinked once or twice, then looked over at me. 

"What's up?" he said in his normal, slow tone.

"Get us online. We need to get out of here, and soon." I glanced at Darren. He had popped open the mini-fridge we kept in the cockpit and pulled out a drink. I could have gone for one myself, just then.

Static clicked his seat up and began running his hands seamlessly over the controls. Trails of information scrolled and blinked on and off the screens. Static took it all in, occasionally scratching his short, gray beard. It was always a bit disconcerting for me whenever I saw him at work. It was my boat, and I liked to think I knew my way around the thing, but compared to Static, I was akin to a blind man groping around at the keypad. It never seemed fair; nobody who had done _that_ much pot should be that good at anything. 

After a moment he stopped with near bizarre finality. "We can't leave. Dock's locked down," He said, turning fully to me.

"What?" Was all I could think to say.

"If' we're all locked down, how's _that_ ship leaving?" Darren said between swigs of his bottle.

I turned over to see my partner leaning against the far right window. I looked out to see that indeed, the ship next to us had already been unclamped from the dock and was in the midst of departing.

I went back and stared at Static, who in turn went back to his console. He swiveled back around to me in another second. "We can't leave. _Our_ ship's locked down," he corrected, as if he were simply overriding his previous statement with his new one.

"Good thing we got that cleared up," Darren said, taking another gulp of whiskey.

"So we're stuck here?"

"Well, that depends," Static said, pulling a small pipe from his pocket, "We have any more of those explosives lying around?"

I cringed. "We used all of them the _last_ time we got locked down in port. Not that it matters. The repairs that little tricked caused us to have to undertake were expensive. And unfinished. Even with the stuff I don't think the Midnight Sun would survive it again."

"We could always ask them nicely to let us go," Darren said, still staring out the window.

Might've worked without the whole "chest exploding" incident," I said unenthusiastically.

Static, ever the master of the uptake, interjected after a short puff on his pipe. "Oh yeah, how'd the casino gig go?"

I stared at the man who had been my pilot for almost half a year now, trying once again in vain to figure out how he was still alive. 

The red light on the comm. System interrupted my philosophical contemplations. "That would be our incarcerators," Darren said, now three quarters through the bottle.

I sighed. "All right, let's see 'em."

Static put them through, the buzzing light clicked off, and a video window popped up into the central screen. The man staring at me was finely trimmed, with a perfect goatee and short, slicked back hair. He had a cigar in his hand, and I could see he was sitting behind a desk. He sure as hell wasn't a cop.

"I don't know who you are, and I don't care. You have something of mine, and I want it back." The man's voice was calm. The kind of calm that just waits for an opening to slip in a knife. 

"I don't know who you are, and we don't have anything of yours. Can we go now?" I liked talking to calm people. I made bets with myself as to how long before I made them calm no longer. 

"Our mutual acquaintance, Miss Anna, says otherwise." That was the first time I heard her name. I probably should have made that clear. 

"Really? She's a lying bitch. We done yet?"

He laughed. Not an actual laugh, though. More a one breathed imitation laugh totally calm people make to indicate some minor amusement. "I don't doubt that. Still, my men saw you interact with Anna, and later, after the unpleasantness in my casino, you were seen near the dead courier who was transferring my property, which is no longer on him. What would you believe?"

"I believe a lot of things. Santa Clause, for one. I still think the Great Fall was a conspiracy by the Martian Government. You want me to go on?"

"Quite humorous." He said, still unflinching. He was good. "I'll give you one hour to see reason. I will call again, and if you do not have my property, and are not ready to transfer it, I will take steps to retrieve it by force. Good day." And the window went black. 

"How did the chick know we had the chip?" Darren asked. He hadn't moved from the window. Probably hoped the guy hadn't seen him. 

"She doesn't, I'd wager. What else was she supposed to tell them, though? The fact that we _do_ have the chip probably saved her life." I pulled the chip from my pocket and looked it over. It bore a startling resemblance to every other casino credit chip I had ever seen. 

"That's assuming," I said, "that this is actually that guy's 'property' he's so keen about getting."

Darren put the empty bottle on the sill next to the window. "Let's go check it out, not like we got anything better to do for the next hour."

I nodded and looked back at Static, who had conveniently slipped back into his own world. "You stay here. Make sure we don't accidentally fall out of this mess or anything." 

"No problem," he said, clicking his seat back in the reclined position. I envied him right then more than I would have ever cared to admit. 

The large room we stepped into was used mostly as a daily living area. Some old couches had been tossed around, and small computer on the table at the center of the room worked as a TV in a pinch. A fan spun half-heartedly from the ceiling. We ate there, we planned there, and more often than not one of us slept there. 

After a bit of lugging we got our clunky scanner out of the storage closet, set it down on the table, and hooked it to the computer. I placed the chip into the little glass-windowed container, sort of like an old style microwave, and began working at the keys. Multi-colored lasers began sliding over the casino chip at various angles, all accompanied by a considerably annoying grinding sound. This same noise was likely the reason the previous owner had thrown it out. Thankfully, I had a much higher tolerance, due mostly to a much lighter cash-card. 

"So what is it?" Darren said after a while.

I didn't look away from the screen. "It's a chip."

"No shit?" 

I shook my head, realizing what I had actually said and not quite wanting to believe it. "No, I mean another one. Inside the casino chip. A computer chip."

 "Oh. So what _is_ it?"

 "You're greatly overestimating our piece of junk here. It could be a detailed program, a message, or the meaning of life for all we know. All this things picking up is a bunch of ones and zeros." I gave up on the scan; you can only learn so much from garbled numbers. 

"All right. So what _do_ we know about it, then?"

"We know this is what our suited friend is looking for. It's the only thing it could be."

Darren stared at me for a second. "So basically, we know what we already assumed to begin with?"

"Yeah," I said, feeling a bit defeated.

"Good thing, then." He got up, shaking his head. 

"Hey, we know what he wants now. That means we can start working on a way to get out of this alive and, hopefully, with something to show."

Darren harrumphed. "Works for me, but if you're going to pull something out of your ass, you better stand up."

Ignoring my partner's ever-useful advice, I sat and thought for a minute. "We have half an hour. We need to go see if we really do have any of that C4 left. I know there's not enough to blow us loose, but maybe enough to give us some leverage."

Darren didn't say anything. Obviously the combinations of us, explosives, and a space station didn't sit too well with him. Thankfully, neither did getting shot up over a casino chip. 

Twenty-nine minutes and forty-five seconds later, I stood amazed at how fast the human mind can work in the face of imminent danger. We had everything as ready as one ever can be with only half an hour's preparation; the hard part would be what transgressed over the next few minutes. I stood back in the helm, awaiting the casino owner's call. Hey, maybe I would actually catch his name this time. 

He called nine seconds late.

"Have you decided?" his cigar was still in his hand. I couldn't help but wonder if ever actually smoked the thing.

"Sure have," I said, "We're not giving the chip to you."

He cocked an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Nope. We're selling it to you."

His eyebrow inched higher. "I already purchased the chip. You cannot re-sell me my own property."

I smiled. "I'll go out on a limb here and say you haven't. You don't seem the type to pay for something before you get it. You haven't yet paid for it, so it isn't yet yours. Since its original owner is dead, it's safe to say _we_ are the new owners the chip." It sounded nice, but I knew I was just stabbing at the dark. I _was_ out on a limb, and if I wasn't careful, I'd step off and hang myself. 

"Some might find your thinking flawed."

I shrugged. "Maybe. But then, the chip's pretty damned useless to us. We're no better or worse with or without it. Problem is that every possible outcome I see has _you_ making things worse for us. So tell me, Mr. Casino, why shouldn't I be a spiteful little ass and just bust the thing?"

He flinched. It was only slight, and only for a second, but it was there. I made him crack. Hooray for me, I thought.

"How much?" was all he said.

Here was the hard part. Casino chips holding micro-computers don't usually come with a convenient price tag. Time to pick a number.

"One hundred thousand." Nice number. Not as wussy as ten. Not as crazy as a million. He could easily handle a hundred k.  

"I accept you're offer." But not that easily. I knew right then he was going to try and kill us. I was happy, such things were good to know about a person. 

"I am anxious to get my chip," he went on, "I expect you back at my casino in one hour. Things are back in order now. Such. unpleasantness as what occurred earlier is rare, but not altogether uncommon. We'll be watching you, if anything is tried, more. unpleasantness will ensue." 

I liked that word. Unpleasantness. A real tidy way of saying someone got a hole punched in them on the casino floor, and that more hole punching was promised if things didn't work out. "We're the ones with our ship clamped down in an unfriendly dock. Unpleasantness is just getting thrust upon us." 

"I am aware," he said with all the caring of a machine gun, "You will return to the same table you were at earlier. Things will go as they should have with my previous courier, though with a few changes to accommodate these new complications."

"Same as before? I guess that means I get to meet Miss Mistaken Identity again, huh?" 

"Yes. If it is of any solace to you, the annoyance she has caused has cut her life short after today. This was to be how she paid her debt to me, and she has failed miserably."

"I'll try not to cry too hard," I said, though honestly not really sure how I felt about it.

"I'm sure. You will take my chip and a sum of money to the table. Originally Miss Anna was supposed to ensure the courier _lost_ all his money, but that was when we had plans of arranging proper payment later, something I have no wish to do. She will ensure you win; those winnings will be your payment. You will, however, ensure she gets my chip. I do not wish to see you again after today."

"The feeling's mutual." We might as well have sworn each other's deaths. 

He nodded, and the video feed cut. I breathed deep. Behind me, Darren stepped from just outside the door. "How'd it go?"

I smiled. "So far so good. We're to be there in an hour. We just have survive another hour and a half."

"Goody. We still going to need this?" He motioned to a suitcase in his hand. It held the last of our explosives. 

"Hopefully. He made no mention of you, which means if his guys catch wind of you they'll try to kill us both. But then, he's going to try and kill us both regardless, so it should all work out." 

I tossed him an earpiece, which he put on. "One last thing, he's not paying us, exactly."

Darren paused, his hand still on his ear. "Come again?"

"We're to 'win' our payment at the roulette wheel. Which means we need some money to start with."

As I finished the sentence, we both turned to Static, still staring happily complacent off into nothing. It was bad karma to gamble, he had said, which was why he hadn't put his share in with the rest of ours at the beginning of this whole thing. The question was, if the gambling was rigged, was it still technically gambling? 

It was this question that kept Static mentally occupied, which meant he didn't mind us using his share to make up our losses over the past day. It's not like he would have used it for anything anyway. 

We exited the Midnight Sun, both of us carrying suitcases. Mine was to clean up the roulette table; Darren's was to clean up everything else. I had done my best to look the part of a high rolling casino goer, but considering my only suit was only slightly younger than I was, I'm not sure I pulled it off. My partner was sporting a long gray coat, hat, and sunglasses. Hopefully it would through off Mr. Casino's security for a few minutes, if nothing else. 

We parted ways directly outside the ship, Darren taking the long way around into the casino. I told him to keep in touch and went down the usual path. It was later in the evening, and some of the normal day tourists had turned in, so it was easier to work my way to the elevator. If the death in this single casino had actually been reported, it didn't seem to have an effect on the night crowd of the station. Maybe a little murder-mystery made things more interesting for them.

After the short elevator ride, the door slid open and I was once again back in the casino. It didn't look much different, a few less people is all. I looked up at the sky box suspended high up in the ceiling, and wondered if the casino owner was looking back down on me. Hopefully it _would_ be me he was looking down on, and not Darren, who needed anything else than to be spotted right now. 

I headed back for that fateful table, past the place where my double got gunned down. They did a good job of cleaning it up; I'd have never known some poor underworld goon got his chest opened up only hours earlier if I hadn't have seen it myself. 

There she was, in the same seat as she had been last time. She had a black eye, and their were bruises all up her shoulders and arms. She looked tired. I was too.

My eyes scanned around me as I walked over to the table. I couldn't help but wonder how many gun holsters were surrounding me, hidden beneath coats, jackets, or even dresses. 

I sat down. "Long night?" I said.

"Thanks to you," was her reply.

"Can't help how I look."

"No one made you come to this table."

"No one made you think I was someone else."

She didn't reply. I placed a bet. I opened up my suitcase and dumped all of my money on black. No chips this time, all bills. Let the dealer sort it out his own damn self.

There was that same clink of her ankle bracelet. "Without luck, your lost wherever you go," she said, her voice distant. 

I think she knew they were going to end her, out of sheer frustration if nothing else. Even if the guy got his chip, he'd still been played the fool. He'd had whatever the hell was so important to him snatched way, and she was part of the reason. I was the other. 

Black 20. I doubled my money. I let it all roll on black again. 

"I think luck lost _me_ this night," she said. Her bracelet clinked again. 

I heard a slight ding of an elevator opening. It was in my earpiece. Darren had arrived in the casino. "Heading for the executive elevator," he whispered. I quietly thanked God we had managed to find and study the schematics all the casinos on the station were built around. Gamblers weren't allowed back were Darren was at, but it was the quickest way to the upper level where Mr. Casino was watching over things.

"I'm not sure she's checked out completely," I said to Anna as I watched the wheel spin. "There's still a fair chance. Luck of a coin toss, fifty-fifty."

Black 14. Four times what I had started with. Still a ways from a hundred grand, though. Once again I put it on black. She was watching me. Clink.

Anna leaned near me slightly. "They're going to kill you," she whispered. I tried to act like I was surprised. Or rather, I tried to act like I was surprised but trying to act like I wasn't. I think it worked. 

There was a snap in my earpiece. That would be the neck of an unsuspecting guard Darren stumbled across. I realized I probably needed to hurry.

The wheel stopped on black 8. I put everything on red and turned back to Anna. "They won't till I give you the chip, and they won't kill you till you hand over the chip to them. Let's make sure my payment's squared away, then we'll see about ensuring the events they have planned following don't go down. All right?" She nodded, and there was another clink from her ankle. 

The next few minutes seemed to take hours, but as if the last time had simply gone in reverse, my winnings steadily grew into the amount promised. The muffled sounds in my ear gave way to Darren's progress. The fact that my back wasn't being filled with holes showed that he hadn't been discovered yet. So far so good. 

All that was left was to hand over the chip. I didn't know when they were going to try to take me out, I could only hope it wouldn't be with so many people around. I looked over at Anna, her body the sheer definition of tension. I pulled the chip from my pocket, but paused.

It was my earpiece. I could only guess at the time, but later Darren filled me in. The loud footsteps and distant yells to stop I understood. The muffled gargling sound was Darren grabbing a guard from behind and holding him in front of him. The gunshots were, well, gunshots. They were gunshots, though, that hit the guard Darren was holding and not him. The second barrage of closer gunshots were from the submachine gun the guard was holding that Darren borrowed, seeing how the guard was now dead and all. The thump was Darren dropping the body and running for cover. I can only assume he had put down the suitcase. I imagine it would have been very cumbersome otherwise. And dangerous. Very, very dangerous. 

"I heard them radioing in!" he yelled as more gunshots sounded near him. "Wherever you're at, the shit's about to hit the fan!"

By "shit's" I was already diving over the table, pulling Anna along with me. I could see in the reflection on the observation window the glint of several weapons being pulled out of the crowd. This was when my plan moved from the area of "well thought out" into the realm of "improvisational". 

A barrage of sub-machinegun fire pecked around me as I rolled behind the heavy set table. The dealer smacked back against the window and slid to the ground, and splattered streak of blood from a bullet meant for me. I pulled out my own handgun, a vintage Desert Eagle .45 I'd had for years. I waited for a gap in the bullets, rose up, took quick aim and fired.

The people were emptying from the casino like the place were depressurizing, which made aiming a bit more easy. The only people standing around were the ones wanting us dead. I got off two shots, catching one guy in the gut and another in the throat before I had to duck behind cover again. A bullet zipped by, grazing my cheek and leaving a gash that would probably need stitches. I remember thinking, as the warm liquid trickled down my neck, that if that was the worst I got today, I would be ever so happy.

I heard footsteps from several directions, not to mention more gunfire from my earpiece. I looked over at Anna, who wasn't fortunate enough to have a gun. She was kneeling against the table, trying very hard not to get shot. I heard someone jump up on the table, and spun around just as he rose up. We fired our pistols simultaneously. His struck my shoulder, my caught him in the forehead. My wound hurt. His didn't really leave anything left _to_ hurt. 

Unfortunately I didn't have time to savor the familiar feeling of iced lead in my body. Before the now-headless guy could hit the table another darted around the side. He was coming for me, but didn't expect Anna to be so close. With a quick kick she tripped him, sending him to the ground, his gun firing wildly all around and making me _very_ thankful the windows separating us from a complete vacuum were bullet-proof. I shot him as he lay there quickly, before he could remember which way was up. 

Anna quickly took up the man's MP-5 and, well, Anna had a gun now. 

She rose up, and in her I saw the built up fury of everything that they had the audacity to put her through. The squinting black eye and the bruises and cuts all over her, all fuel for her rage. She sneered as she poured out her clip at the hitmen over the table out of my sight. Bullets flew around, but none of them hit her. I don't think any of them dared.

I pulled myself up just as she stopped. Our would-be killers, six of them, were dead, lying on the ground or over tables or in statued fountains. One last man darted from cover behind a slot machine, a bleeding wound in his side. He was aiming for her, forgetting I ever existed. He paid for the mistake with a hole in his chest. 

I slid back down against the table. "Where you at, Darren?" I said, ignoring the throbbing pain in my arm. 

There was a ding. "I'm at the elevator, about to send our present up."

"Good. We're clear down here, so hurry back." I heard the sound of elevator doors closing. Next stop was the top floor.

I forced myself back up to the table. To my surprise, my winnings were left unharmed, albeit a bit scattered and dotted with blood here and there. I holstered my gun and with my good arm I began scraping up the bundle of bills and credit chips into the suitcase. We would end up having to go to another casino to cash them, I realized. 

I noticed out of the corner of my eye Anna had turned to me. She was still pointing her gun. Some of that rage she had was to be directed, not completely undeservedly, at me. 

If only it mattered. "No sense in that," I said casually, "You're empty." I clicked the suitcase closed.

The other click came from her gun. I guess she didn't believe me. She threw it down, banging it against the white marble floor.

"You think this is over?" she yelled, pointing up, "Look up there! He's up there, watching all this. In another minute there'll be another twenty guys out here. _Twenty_! Can you count that high? You can't just kill them all and walk away!"

"Uh huh. Do yourself a favor and close your ears."

I always imaged the ding of the elevator as the doors opened to the top floor. A large number of guards were probably waiting there, the guards Anna had mentioned most likely, preparing to come down and finish us off. They probably laughed at the idea of two people, maybe three taking them all on, and now someone was trying to just waltz into their secure section of the casino and walk to the boss's front door. That's when they'd see the suitcase, and maybe a few of them would realize and see their own deaths coming.

An explosion rocked the entire casino, and likely the entire station. I had braced myself, but Anna lost her balance and almost tripped. An earsplitting claxon went off, signaling the breach of the station and a loss of pressure in the casino. Anna looked at me, wild with fear, probably knowing it was my doing and thinking me insane for it. She obviously didn't know how the station worked.

I looked up and watched the glass in the suspended office crack and bend in on itself. I thought I saw a hand gripping something, but I was never sure. In seconds it shattered inward, and an incredible whooshing sound drowned out the echoing beeps and bings of the empty casino. Mine and Anna's hair and clothes rustled as the air began pulling from the room. It wasn't so bad in the casino, it was so big. Inside the office, however, I imagined all the glass, furniture, paper, guards, and Mr. Casino himself being pulled out into the inky void. I never managed to learn his name.

After a few seconds of this the containment shields slammed down around the busted windows, enclosing the depressurized section from the rest of the station. The claxon shut off. Everyone in the upper part of the casino was now dead. We won. 

I picked up the suitcase, taking a few minutes to enjoy breathing freely again. "Well, that was fun," I said, "You shouldn't have to wor."

She kicked me. Hard. I suppose it might have been a bit much to expect otherwise. I had hoped the knowledge that her debtors, and would-be killers, were dead would soften her wrath a bit. Then again, I realize in retrospect, one doesn't get on the bad side of people like that by being content to simply accept any given situation. It _was_ a lot of money, after all.

I fell to my knees, my sight flashing white with pain. Through my violent coughing I felt her grab the suitcase. I could hear her footsteps as my vision began to clear. I didn't lunge or get up. With one uninjured arm I wasn't exactly in the position for either. Then again, after that I'm not sure I would have even if I could. I reached for my gun.

I fired and hit. The suitcase flew from her hand with a violent force, smacking open on a strip of red carpet with a sizeable hole near the handle. I can't claim an act of mercy, the pain made my shot off target. I was aiming for her wrist.

She recoiled, holding her smarting but still attached hand. I said nothing, but there was no way in hell I was lowering my gun. Without a word she turned and ran for the exit. She passed Darren as he was walking toward me. He gave her a sidelong glace that lasted several seconds and I knew damn well what he was staring at. I also understood why. And he had those eye augmentations, the bastard. He closed and picked up the suitcase before he reached me.

"Letting her go?" he said, helping me, still coughing, to my feet. He probably had guessed what had happened from what he heard in his earpiece.

"I think we reached an understanding," I said, wiping the warm blood from my cheek.

"All right then. Nice to see things on the up and up." He paused. "How's the arm?"

"Unless I'm mistaken, there's a bullet in it."

Darren laughed. "Sorry I asked. Not like you won't be fine a couple of days, unless your augs decided to give out. You still got the chip?"

 "Yeah," I cringed as I reached in my pocket to get it. 

"Maybe someone will want to buy it?" I said, flipping it to him.

"You _really_ want to have anything else to do with this thing?"

I thought about it. "Not particularly." 

"Toss it, then," he said, flipping it back.

I held it in my palm, staring at it for a long time as we walked along. I never did find out just what _was_ inside the thing. Standing there I wondered if anyone ever found it and discovered what was inside. And if they did, I wondered if it would turn out to be anything more than a "happy birthday" message or something to that effect. Honestly, after that day I never wondered about it again. Better off not knowing and all that.

I stopped by a slot machine. "Luck be with me tonight," I said, and slipped it in. The three columns spun, the machine chirping happily. Slowly each one came to a stop one at a time. They read seven, seven, and bar. Darren and me stood there, both expecting something, _anything_ more. Still, I couldn't help but think how strangely fitting it was as we both left the casino.


End file.
